I Ching Millefolium

ACHILLEA MILLEFOLIUM (in memory of Han Boering)

Today the millefolium
is flourishing in the garden,
its leaves impossible to count,
its colours of amazing beauty,
just as many visiting,
tasted their smell
like as a huge one 100,
talking in strange tongues
it seemed like Babylon
they asked a lot of questions
but still the same sun shone on all
and all of them,
without much thought,
they picked a stalk
and 50 then were left behind
and then came 1
gathering their catch
what questions then were left to them?
and to what colour then
was their attention drawn?
what smell kept burning in their eyes?
yet all of them are singing
to the selfsame melody,
and all of them are lavished
by the selfsame well
So as today the fish
around, around are dancing
as princes and princesses,
so once spoke Apollonious:
“though this be madness,
yet there’s method in it”

Today the millefolium
is flourishing in the garden,
gripping then the looking,
and shrouded then the memory,
what use in counting if the sum is known?
Today this monument
is flourishing in the garden,
built for eternities,
invisibly with hands constructed,
we watch, we cannot understand
as 1 who knows:
“nowhere is there a habitat for answers,
for those who only seek solutions”
why not then to the garden disappear
where now the millefolium resides
the home of 1000 questions now,
like as a huge one 100,
and where all stalks, once counted,
this answer offer:
“the woman here, dwells in the centre,
and nourishment will follow
when bonds in families
will shine out clear and bright,
that’s how connexion grows”

Today the millefolium
is flourishing in the garden,
the questioning is over,
and Love is growing.

(Ps: The counting of dried branches of the Achillea Millefolium is used as an ancient method to consult the “I Ching”, the Chinese “Book of Changes”. I wrote the poem to honour Han Boering, Dutch I Ching Master, who passed away in June, 2015). He wrote outstanding books on the matter, and was an expert in explaining and advising those who came for questions and answers.)

Embrace

Power Of Flow

Womb

Enclosed I roam from star to star,
I travel endlessly, I whisper and
my breath unfolds behind me as
a vale, a shooting star, a comet
on its way and growing, growing
with each lightyear passing by,
O yes, there is much pleasure in this
roaming , it is creation of a Master
Plan and still this roaming is
continuing, and when from time
to time I reach the boundaries of
my confinement, I feel a sudden
shiver, as if some unseen hand is
there to push me back, or could it
be the vale behind that keeps on
coming back, I wonder. So here I
am, inside and out, no matter
how the journey goes, there always
will be worlds to enter and others
then to leave behind, the roaming
will continue , on and on, no
ending, no beginning, so is the
roaming in the Womb of Being,
the cavern of His Master’s Plan.